


The End of Love

by NewAndLost (yahootoldyou), yahootoldyou



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Angst, F/M, Female Harry, Hurt/Comfort, and a lot of murder, but also a war, like there is a wedding, not your average wedding planner au, tom is a right bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yahootoldyou/pseuds/NewAndLost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yahootoldyou/pseuds/yahootoldyou
Summary: “Okay Nev, a car is coming to pick me up and I’ll text you where we end up so you can meet me. Bring the Book. Nothing but the best for Bellatrix Black.” Harry hears Neville hesitate and goes to hang up. She knows Bella’s mother is responsible for the accident that hospitalized Neville’s parents, but they can’t afford to pass on the opportunity.“Harry, you know who… You know who she’s-“A sleek black car pulls up and-“Neville, I have to go-““Harry!”She hears as she presses end. She knows that he’s trying to warn her of something, she just can’t care what it is at this point. Bellatrix and whatever psychopath is marrying her will have the best damn wedding of the century and then Harry will return to New York with her business being much better known.London would only be a part of her life again very briefly and besides, it’s not like she can possibly seehim.It’s been almost ten years since she ran, surely he can’t still care that she left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by an amazing Tomarry fic I read a while ago about the same concept, but I can't find it! If anyone knows the fic, please let me know so I can link it!

_“Nev? Hi, yeah it’s me. We’re gonna need like our A game right now. You’ll never guess who just asked to work with us!” _

“Ms. Potter?” Harry spins on her heal, hand still grasping the head set microphone as she’s interrupted from barking orders as a hand clasps on her shoulder. Behind her is a woman in a startlingly straight skirt suit. The black is severe against her beautiful pale skin and matches the wild, untamed hair that is currently pulled away from the woman’s face. It would be hard to misidentify Bellatrix Black on a bad day and this is a good day. A very good day if she’s here to conduct business with Harry herself. 

“Yes?” She answers and the woman ticks her mouth up in a half smirk. Her eyes are a bit too crazy for Harry’s taste, but she understands that when a person is as well known and as powerful as Bellatrix Black, she can look however she wants. But what is she doing _here_?

“Ms. Bellatrix Black?” She gasps, pretending to just recognize the woman and cover for her earlier stumble, “What are you doing all the way across the pond?” Bellatrix is a few years younger than Harry herself, the woman just barely twentyfive compared to Harry’s thirtytwo. They had just avoided each other in Hogwarts, but Harry had heard of Bellatrix due to her unhealthy obsession with Harry’s ex-boyfriend from her school days. Thinking of him makes her insides twist, even after all of this time, and she shoves him from her mind. 

“My fiancé insisted I find England’s best wedding planner for our ceremony and well… I know you have stationed yourself here, but I would be honored and willing to pay for you to move home for a bit and plan our celebration.” Harry considers it. She hasn’t been back to England since she and he broke up, Harry fleeing in the soft night rain, the drops hiding the massive amount of tears she was shedding. 

“I would be honored,” she answers because Bellatrix is not a client she could ever pass up. It will bring international coverage and Harry’s business would surge through the roof. “Should we schedule a time to meet with both you and your fiancé in London sometime next week? I could videochat you with my assistant Neville.” Bellatrix smiles and shakes her head. 

“My fiancé has decided to be indulgent and come with me to New York. We were hoping to meet with you sometime in the next two days before we return to London.” It isn’t really a request and Harry wouldn’t say no even if given an option so she nods. Bellatrix’s phone rings and she answers with what must be a fond smile by her standards, but looks like a grimace upon perfect features. 

“Hello, baby… Yes. Yes, I will inform her. Yes, okay. See you soon,” and as she bids the man on the other end goodbye her lips curl into a smirk and she casts Harry a glance that throws her for a moment. The smirk threatens dark promises Harry can’t even imagine. Even then though, even if she’s marrying Voldemort himself, Harry will still plan it. She can’t pass up this opportunity. 

“He says to meet us for dinner tonight. He will send a driver to pick you up from your apartment at around 7,” Bellatrix orders before spinning on her heal and stalking off. Harry watches her go with wide eyes before bringing the mic to her mouth and ordering around the staff again. 

Since that moment, the day had flown by. The event ended with a flourish of exploding confetti and Harry had a glass of wine to celebrate another job well done. Now though, now she needed to be back on the job. 

“Okay Nev, a car is coming to pick me up and I’ll text you where we end up so you can meet me. Bring the Book. Nothing but the best for Bellatrix Black.” Harry hears Neville hesitate and goes to hang up. She knows Bella’s mother is responsible for the accident that hospitalized Neville’s parents, but they can’t afford to pass the opportunity. 

_“Harry, you know who… You know who she’s-“_ A sleek black car pulls up and-

“Neville, I have to go-“

_“Harry!”_ She hears as she presses end. She knows that he’s trying to warn her of something she just can’t care what it is at this point. Bellatrix and whatever psychopath is marrying her will have the best damn wedding of the century and then Harry will return to New York with her business being much better known. 

London would only be a part of her life again very briefly and besides, it’s not like she can possibly see _him._ It’s been almost ten years since she ran, surely he can’t still care that she left. 

Bellatrix meets her in the lobby of the restaurant as she texts Neville the address. He’ll be here in five minutes. 

“Oh, Harry I can’t wait for you to meet my fiancé. He’s such a charmer,” she gushes and Harry smiles, indulging the strange, rich woman and her quirks. 

“Miss Black,” the host greets, “the third member of your party is already seated. Right this way.” Harry wonders what psychopath would marry this lunatic. In her head, she pictures one of the other pureblood families obsessed with purity. A Rosier or a Lestrange would be right up this woman’s alley. 

Still, nothing can prepare her for the sight of a very familiar back and she feels the very blood in her veins freeze as he turns around, mahogany eyes meeting green intensely. In front of her for the first time in over a decade is _Tom Riddle._ The devil in the flesh. She approaches him even as she wishes more than anything to run away to a different continent. He found her on this one and now it’s time to flee. He doesn’t even pause as his eyes intensely stare at her. 

She will be brave as she always is, a Gryffindor through and through. She sticks out her hand in greeting. 

“Harry Potter,” she introduces herself and Tom Riddle’s too intense gaze stares down at her fingers like he may eat them. Slowly, his gaze crawls back up towards her face and the smirk that rests on his lips is far too familiar. His eyes narrow when they meet her own and she just smiles placidly. She won’t break down, she will not run screaming in the other direction. This isn’t London and she isn’t twenty anymore. 

_“Tom,” she shouts as she collapses in pain and the man finally turns to look at her fully, his features twisted in a rage she has never seen. She knows he is cruel, knows the rumors that line the bricks of the walls at Hogwarts, but she never thought they could be true. She presses one hand against her stomach and one against her forehead in immense pain, hoping to stall the bleeding. The blood spills into her eyes and she’s temporarily blind, her breathing increasing in pace as she starts to panic. She knows this is too much blood, the product of a cutting curse and one she had never seen. _

_“Harry,” a familiar voice calls, but she can’t tell who it is. She just wants Tom, her Tom…_

_“Harry, please… I’m so sorry… Please don’t die on me.”_

His eyes drift to her forehead and she feels the scar itch. _The Girl Who Lived…_ The only living person to have survived the Killing Curse. When she had woken in St. Mungos the healers had asked who cast the curse, confusing Harry instantly… Because it had been Tom. Tom had tried to kill her after five years of them dating. She hadn’t said it was him, but when Hermione had shown up she made her go to her house and change the wards. She ordered her to alert security to keep him out. 

Tom had shown up, Harry had heard the shouts and the violence. When she was released from the hospital, she apparated to New York and told no one to tell him where she had gone.

“Tom Riddle. I think I remember you from Hogwarts, Harry. I didn’t realize you’d moved to the colonies,” he states and Harry resists the urge to flinch. They had never spoken about it, the fact that Tom had known the Killing Curse. The fact that he had cast it so easily, not even looking at who it was that he was murdering in their home. 

“Yes, well-“ she starts, but Tom continues on, not caring that she absolutely does not want to be having this conversation. “Aren’t you the Girl Who Lived? The medical phenomenon from a few years back?” Harry does flinch now and she struggles to keep the smile on her face. 

“That was a long time ago,” she brushes it off with a nervous laugh, “and I moved to the states to avoid all of that business so if you wouldn’t mind…” She trails off and she offers a cruel smile. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to make things uncomfortable… You are planning our wedding after all,” he says with a chuckle and Harry can’t breathe. She suddenly remembers the other person in the room and the fact that she is, in fact, planning the wedding of Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Black. Bile threatens to come up her throat so Harry forcably turns the conversation back to Bellatrix who is sitting there with an odd, crazed smile on her face.

“Miss Black, now that greetings are out of the way, what is the vision you have for your special day?” Bellatrix hums excitedly, launching into a description of a Slytherin green wedding. Tom and she had met in Slytherin while Bellatrix was visiting her sister Narcissa who had been a few years younger than them. Harry remembers Tom’s account of meeting the youngest black sister quite well. 

_“She’s unhinged… Like a weapon waiting to be forged. The fire, the utter rage and insanity inside of her… So much potential,” he mumbles to himself and Harry stiffens, looking at her boyfriend with wide eyes. _

_“She’s a person, Tom. Not to mention shes far too young for you and you have a girlfriend,” she reminds him and he immediately softens, coming to her side and assuring her of her place in his heart. _

_“It’s you, Harry. It’s always been you and it always will be,” he promises before bringing their lips together. _

Well, so much for that. Not only was it not Harry, but Tom was so certain of it that he’d tried to get rid of her. At least he’s getting the powerful alliance he probably always wanted. Sirius has never liked Tom anyway, so it’s not like Harry could connect Tom to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. No, Harry is just a halfblood Gryffinfor Potter that more than likely stood in his way. She resolves to call her godfather to talk later before talking to the happy couple again. 

Soon, all of the preliminary questions are finished and she calls Neville in to go over potential English venues and caterers. Feigning panic, she checks her phone. 

“I look forward to working with you both to make your special day magical. Apologies for not staying for dinner, but something has come up and my assistant Neville will be taking over from here. Good evening,” she excuses herself and exits the dining room of the expensive restaurant. She sees Neville with the Book and nearly runs over to him, launching herself into his arms. 

She has never been so grateful to Neville, her best friend who had moved to New York with her when she wanted to start this business. They share an apartment and honestly, he’s her rock. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I tried to warn you…” He trails off and she just shrugs and smiles tearily. Swallowing she wipes her eyes and grasps his forearms. 

“You might have to take lead on this one and I’ll help from the sidelines,” he nods, completely understanding. Tom Riddle is the demon that goes bump in Harry Potter’s night. The shadow hanging over her head. Neville knows this. 

“I don’t believe that will be the case, Harry,” a voice says from behind her and she stiffens, turning to stare wide eyed at Tom Riddle once again. Harry shoos Neville off to the table to speak with Bellatrix and although he hesitates, he will never be bold enough to stand up to a man as scary as Tom Riddle.

“Mr. Riddle, why don’t we step out side,” she motions, trying to keep things professional. His eyes narrow dangerously, but he does allow her to lead them to a small balcony and shut the door.

“Now, my business and life are based out of New York. I cannot feasibly move to London for eight whole months to be on scene for your wedding as we prepare. My assistant however, can-“ 

“Bella told you we would pay you, did she not? We will, handsomly. More that you earn in a year doing this silly little job,” he sneers and she straightens. This is so familiar to her, this sensation of arguing with him, that what she says next is almost natural. It is also most definitely a mistake. 

“And what if I refuse, Tom? Will you slice me in my stomach again? Maybe fully cut me in half this time? Or maybe, you’ll just fire a Killing Curse. What are the odds I’ll survive it twice?” She snarls, moving her curly bangs to reveal the lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead. His eyes widen and she sees his hand raise gently, as if he wishes to touch it before his features harden. 

“I told Bella to find England’s best wedding planner and she came back to me with you. Imagine my surprise that my Harry, the love of my young life, had fled to New York from me a decade prior. Nevertheless, that period in our lives is over and you are the best. I will give Bella the best,” he says and his eyes almost gleam red in the evening moonlight, “which means you have to move past any childish emotions from our youth or I will be forced to fire you.” She feels as though she’s been scolded, like a child whose parent told her she can’t have dessert because she hadn’t finished dinner. 

“You can’t honestly believe that I want to be in your presence? I fled to America because you mutilated me,” she spits and this time he does flinch back a little bit. 

“And you left without allowing me to explain. I no longer owe you that,” he says harshly and she can tell it’s taking everything in him not to shout in public. 

“I should be dead. You should be my murderer. I’m not taking this case. Apologies to your lovely fiancé, but returning to England would be a massive mistake." Storming back into the restaurant, she finds the table where Neville is sweating as Bellatrix mercilessly taunts him. For a moment, Harry remembers how brave and loyal Neville truly is for doing this for her. She knows Bellatrix is a hard topic for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Black, but it seems we just simply will not be able to work together. I wish you the best with your wedding and with your marriage,” she bids the woman goodbye, not seeing the pure shock in her eyes. Harry tugs Neville up and out of the restaurant. They’re outside waiting for her Uber when a strong, familiar hand grips her forearm. 

“I’m not giving up on this. Bella will have the best and whatever I have to do to get you to England, Harriet… I’ll do it.” 

It’s a threat and a promise Harry doesn’t want to stick around and figure out. In true New Yorker fashion, she flips him off, climbing into the Uber next to Neville and putting her head in her hands. It’s not until she’s almost home that she realizes she should’ve just apparated. 

“What are you going to do?” Neville asks and Harry rolls her eyes. 

“I’m calling Cedric and telling him to bring his dick and a bottle of wine.” Neville laughs and pats her on the back. 

_Fuck Tom Riddle_, she left him behind and she’s not bringing him back into her life. It’s been ten years and she isn’t about to let him get away with fucking up her life again. 

Bella drapes herself over his shoulders, ever the picture of the perfect fiancé. 

“How did I do, my Lord?” She questions, her voice a low purr. He smiles, looking at the retreating car carrying the one thing Lord Voldemort craves and yet does not have. 

“Very well, Dear Bella… This is why you’re my favorite,” he praises, knowing the crazy bitch needs it like the air she breathes. She melts, slinking around him and Tom allows the feeling of seeing Harry again roll over him. 

She will be his. There is no doubt about it. 

He was a young and dumb man when he accidentally maimed the love of his life, ruining his plans for them before he could even ennact them. But no matter. Harry has only grown into her looks and when she stands by his side, she will be the perfect picture of his Queen that he always knew she would be.

“I live to serve you, my Lord,” is the last thing she whispers before he apparates them away.


	2. i feel nervous in a way that can't be named

“Tom,” _Harry cries out in agony and Tom turns finally to look at the intruder that interrupted his most important ritual. There is a dead body in front of him, a piece of his soul missing and there is his girlfriend collapsed on the ground. _

_Tom and Harry have been together for ages, he has seen her in every position and situation he can think of, but this… His face slackens in grief and horrified shock. Harry was supposed to be in Paris with Sirius! When had she come home? He rushes to her side, needing to know she’s alive. He knows the curses he cast and he knows she must be dead. He’s rambling her knows._

_“Harry, please… I’m so sorry… Please don’t die on me.” …But he can feel the panicking breaths she takes under his hands as he grasps her shoulders. Blood has blocked him from seeing the green of her eyes. There is an agony deep in his bones, a sadness he has never known. He can’t hear anything, the pure agony causing the blood to rush in his ears like a cacaophony, the noise almost too much. _

_What is this feeling? Magic answers his question. _

_This is_ remorse.

_ The horcrux Tom has just created comes flying back to him and he chokes on his own physical pain. Collapsing on the ground next to her, he knows this may very well be the last time he sees her. The Killing Curse is supposed to be instant, but perhaps they can save her. Clenching his eyes and teeth, Tom apparates to St. Mungos, Harry’s small hand clasped in his own. Before anyone can see or question him, he apparates away back to their home. _

_The pain threatens to swallow him whole and he doesn’t know the source. Was it the reabsoption of a piece of his soul or the loss of his heart? For the first time in a long time, Tom Riddle pulls himself to his knees and sobs wholeheartedly into his hands. _

_The papers don’t say anything about Harry’s death the next morning so Tom sends Lucius’s son Draco, a classmate of Tom’s to see if she survived. Draco comes back with the knowledge that Harry Potter survived the killing curse, a lightning bolt scar carved into her forehead. Tom sees Draco swallow the question on his tongue, the one that Tom would kill him for. He will not admit to this, he refuses. _

_ He shows up at the hospital two days later with a limp and a need to know what happened. He had been too weak beforehand because of the soul magic, but he needed to see Harry._

_ Hermione Granger, a woman he despises and also admires, points her wand at him and tells him to leave. They’re in public, but the witch doesn’t seem to care. In that moment, he slips in her mind, needing to know what Harry told her… What Harry looked like. _

_ “Mione,” she croaks and Tom feels a pang of misery, “Just keep Tom away okay?” She asks and Hermione’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Her face is purple and bruises, a raised scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on her upper forehead. Her torso is wrapped in gauze and he knows they must have operated the muggle way to ensure there was no internal injuries. She looks smaller than Tom has ever seen and he feels his lungs collapsing. _

_ “Did he do this to you? Harry, did Tom try to kill you?” Hermione’s vice raises in disbelief and he watches Harry swallow painfully. Did Tom try to kill you? Her voice echoes in his ears and he knows that he did. He hadn’t meant to, but he had. _

_ “No, of course not,” she lies to her friend for Tom’s benefit, “but I never want to see him again. Please, Mione.” Hermione, not fully believing her, nods and swears she’ll keep Tom away. Tom slips out of her mind with panic and rage._ I never want to see him again. 

_Tom lashes out with his magic, yelling. He doesn’t know what he says or what curses he’s firing, but Hermione cuts him off with a well timed Expelliarmus. The mudblood has the audacity to drop his wand at his feet with a sneer. _

_“She’s done with you, dick head. Leave her alone and get the fuck out of here,” she spits before spinning on her heel and walking away primly. Tom Riddle, in that moment, has never hated anybody more. I never want to see him again rocking his world. Harry wants nothing to do with him… Nothing. He had seen the honesty in her eyes. _

_ So he has no choice but to have his followers monitor her. She is released, the press having a field day over the Girl Who Lived. Tom is bitter because he always knew she was special, he didn’t need some feat of impossible magic to prove it. Still, he doesn’t know how she is alive and the promise of power he hadn’t expected is… arousing to the Dark Lord inside to say the least. _

_ When they tell him Harry is gone, he kills three Death Eaters in pure rage, vowing to find her and correct his mistake. _

Harry wakes to the sound of her phone ringing. Her on again off again boyfriend of the last couple of years is snoring softly next to her and she grumbles. She had decided to cut Cedric off for good before Tom Riddle showed back up in her life. A Hufflepuff that went to school with them, Cedric has been nothing but kind to her. 

Unfortunately, she needs more than just kindness. The number on the phone is from the United Kingdom and she has an awful feeling. She pulls her phone to her ear and answers with a soft, “Hello?” 

_“Hello,”_ says a very official sounding voice and something sinks in her stomach, _“Is this Harriet James Potter Black?”_ He asks and she feels it sinking lower. Black is her adopted name, one she received when her parents died and Sirius took her in. 

“It is,” she admits quietly. 

_“You should get to St. Mungos as soon as possible,”_ the voice says and Harry hears the blood pumping in her very veins, _“Your godfather has been in a terrible accident. We don’t know how long he has.”_ She agrees quietly, thanking the man for telling her. Arms snake around her waist and she stiffens. 

“Good morning, Gorgeous,” Cedric purrs, but it isn’t endearing. The call to fall back into bed with him and let him fuck her until she can’t remember that Sirius is dying is strong, but she shakes out of his grip. 

“I have to go to London… Stay as long as you want, just lock up when you leave,” she orders and sees the warm, content look in Cedric’s eyes shift to one of concern.

“Harry, are you okay?” He asks and Harry stiffles a sob. She shakes her head, mumbling that Sirius is in St. Mungos and then apparates, not giving Cedric a chance to try to comfort her. 

Being in London is so bizarre after a lengthy retreat. Seeing Tom yesterday and being here today… She feels closer to the girl she left behind far more than she has in ages. She had left so suddenly, severed her life so abruptly, it had taken her months to reach out to her friends. She had utterly disappeared after Tom’s violent maiming. 

_“Harry, you don’t have to go,” Hermione pleads, Sirius standing in the doorway. Harry is frantic as she shoves important items into her purse. It’s a clever bit o magic that shrinks the objects, but Hermione is a clever witch and it was a gift from her._

_“I do. You don’t understand, you can’t understand,” she chokes on her own dry sobs. Talking aobut Tom proves to be too painful. But when the man you are so convinced is the one for you, the man you’ve spent a quarter of your young life with does what Tom has done to her… How does one recover? They_ leave. _They cannot stay where they’ve been. Hermione’s eyes soften and she knows that this is something Harry wont budge on. _

_“Where will you go?” Hermione whispers softly, and Harry meets her gaze and then her pseudo-father’s. She swallows, tears spilling on her pale cheeks. She hasn’t regained color from the head wound. _

_“I’ve always wanted to see New York.”_

Sirius is unconscious and in critical condition. The healers say he won’t wake up any time soon, if he ever does. Harry is propped on an uncomfortable chair next to his bed. Suddenly, a warm hand clasps her shoulder and she looks up into the kind eyes of Head Healer Hermione Granger. Harry launches into her friend’s arms, sobbing in dry heaves against the woman’s white robes. 

_“Harry,”_ she breathes and they’ve seen each other rarely over the years, but this is still her best friend. Hermione and Ron had stayed, knowing that with Voldemort on the rise, the fight needed most of the Golden Trio. Harry hugs her tighter, breathing in the clean scent and feeling more at home than she has in a long time. 

Hours later find both of them in a cozy Mexican restaurant. Hermione discloses that she’s been obsessed with Mexican food since her first pregnancy. A baby who is Harry’s goddaughter. A pang of loss echoes in her heart, but she knows she had no choice but to go. Tom was once the love of her life and she did love him, but she wasn’t blind. The man is dangerous with dangerous friends, more than likely on the Voldemort train with his psychotic fiancé. 

“How’s the Wedding Planner business going? What made you stop teaching at Ilvermorny?” Harry shrugs in response, not really knowing what to say. Neville had come across the pond to teach Herbology for a guest term and when the time had come for him to go back to Hogwarts they both quit to start a wedding planning business. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but Harry is a formidible dueller and Hogwarts had made it clear long ago that if she wanted the Defense position it was hers. 

“It’s going well. Nev is going to take care of business for me for a while. While I’m stuck here, at least” she says with a harsh laugh, “But time stops for no person, not even the Girl Who Lived.” Hermione flinches and Harry knows that her almost death scared the girl when they were younger. It had steered Hermione right out of the Ministry’s grasp and into healing. 

“How long will you stay?” Hermione asks as if she’s terrified Harry will flee given the first opportunity. It is probably a fair assumption. 

“I don’t know. The reason I left followed me to America recently and it just feels as if there’s no where else to hide, you know what I mean?” Hermione nods, but the questions remain in her eyes. _Why did you run? What happened? Who did this?_ Harry cuts the thoughts off by patting her friend’s hands across the table. 

“I’ll stay as long as I’m needed. I am also supposed to be planning Tom and Bellatrix Black’s wedding, but I told him where to shove it,” she admits and at this Hermione spits her martini out on the table. 

_“What?”_ She’s shrieking in a way that reminds Harry far too much of Hogwarts. Harry tsks. 

“A waste of good gin, Mione, is a fucking crime.” Harry sips her martini gently and avoids Hermione’s harsh gaze. 

“What did _he do_? What made you leave?” Hermione demands and Harry gulps down a large sip that burns the back of her throat. 

“He… He wasn’t there when that man fired the curse at me and… We had been having issues, Mione. I just had to go,” she knows she sounds ridiculous as Hermione’s gaze doesn’t soften at all. She knows her best friend, the clever witch she is, figured out long ago that Tom had something to do with the curse. Harry doesn’t know why after all this time she defends the man, but she used to love him. That’s enough to not want his life ruined, right? Part of her has never been able to think he had meant to do it. Part of her will always think it was a terrible accident.

“We were so young when Tom and I first went out, you know? Our lives went in different directions and we had to as well.” It isn’t a lie, but that isn’t what killed their relationship. Hermione clearly doesn’t believe it, but she lets it go. 

“Hello, Ladies,” a familiar voice says and Harry looks up into the eyes of one Draco Malfoy. The man still is as blond as ever, his eyes still ice cold like his soul and Harry figures that Tom and he are still close. The man probably wouldn't be so arrogant right now if they were not. 

“Malfoy,” Harry greets, remembering too many spats on the quidditch pitch during their school days. Malfoy slides into the booth next to Harry, sliding his arms around his shoulder. She remembers Hermione punching him in his smug face and a smile pulls at the edges of her lips. 

“Say, Potter… I didn’t know you’d returned to fair old England,” he says with a smirk, leaning into her space even further, “Are you free for dinner later?” Harry is the one to spit her gin this time, coughing lightly as she stares at Draco with horrified eyes. Finally, she manages to compose herself enough to respond. 

“Sorry, Mal-Draco, but I’m seeing somebody… Cedric Diggory, you remember him right?” She says with what she hopes is a sorry smile. Draco nods with a disappointed frown, standing to leave the booth. He considers her for a moment and she swears she sees pity in his stare. 

“That’s alright. Perhaps by the time the wedding rolls around you’ll be single. I’m the best man, you know?” He chuckles, placing his hand on top of hers and patting it. Harry resists the urge to flinch away.

“See you around, Harry… Granger.” The blond head retreats into the bar and Harry lets out a sharp bark of incredulous laughter. 

“Did that really just happen?” Hermione fixes her with a serious look. 

“You cannot say yes ever. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, Harry!” Harry is shocked. Not that the pureblooded prick is in a gang of that sort, but because she can’t imagine Draco being under somebody’s influence other than Tom’s. For the first time, she considers this Lord Voldemort fellow. 

“Strange, I thought he’d always serve Tom like the faithful mut he is,” she mumbles, tossing back the rest of her drink. Tom Riddle had always had Draco following him around making snide comments to Harry when she and Tom had been together. Even after they had graduated, she would still come home some nights to Draco and Tom having a hushed conversation in the den. 

“…We think Tom may also be a high ranking Death Eater, Harry.” That behavior out of Tom wouldn’t surprise her either. The man had always been obsessed with power and willing to do whatever it takes to acheive his goals. Harry just nods along though, not sharing what _is_ surprising about that statement. 

Tom Riddle would never play second fiddle, would never be content with following anyones lead. So him being a Death Eater is unlikely. Tom being _Lord Voldemort_ however… Seems _much more likely_. 

Tom sits at his desk, looking at the photos of a distraught Harry Potter Black at the hospital with the only family she has left. She feels so much, that he can see clearly in both the frown and the laughter lines in the woman’s face. He strokes it with his finger as Draco comes waltzing into his office. Draco and Bella are the only ones granted access to him the way they are, the cousins courting his favor quite well. Still, he looks up at his “best friend” and gestures to the chair across from himself. 

“Draco,” he greets. Draco mumbles a “My Lord” in greeting, not looking up at Tom’s intense gaze. The blond rakes a hand through his hair and Tom knows he will not like the answer Draco has brought him for the most important question. _Has Harry moved on?_ Still, Tom will not prompt Draco for an answer again and the man knows it, opening his mouth to speak.

“She’s seeing a man named Cedric Diggory, My Lord. A Hufflepuff from our year that she caught up with in New York. They’ve been together for four years and the rumors say he wants to p-propose.” The man's fear is palpable. Tom growls low in his throat.

“Thank you, Draco. That will be all,” he dismisses the other man and Draco trips over his own feet trying to scramble out of the path of Tom’s rage. 

His fists clench together. It seems he and Mr. Diggory have to have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two!!! ahhhhh I am in a very busy period at school right now, but if you would like to read more please let me know! I will do my best to get it out quickly ! thank you so much for reading <3


	3. let it wash away, wash away

When a hand falls on her shoulder as she clutches Sirius’s hand in the hospital, she cannot help but flinch. She closes her eyes, her hands clasping just a bit harder to the limp grip of her adoptive father.

“Are you quite alright, Darling? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” And Harry doesn’t know who she was expecting to be standing above her, but it certainly was not Cedric. She smiles, tension leaving her body as she stands to hug her boyfriend. She may not be in love with him, but she appreciates the comfort from one of the only constants in her life the past couple of years. She loves Ron and Hermione, but they aren’t Nevil and Luna. 12 Grimmauld Place is empty and haunted with memories of a past she left far behind. St. Mungo’s is certainly dreary as well. Cedric makes the white walls seems to stretch and allow more room to breathe. To have a piece of her New York life in her arms again is comforting in ways she was not aware she needed. 

“Harry?” He mumbles into her hair, pressing a kiss there and Harry stiffles a soft sniff. 

“Thank you for being here,” She says softly and looks up to see a soft smile on Cedric’s handsome face. She had left New York so abruptly, not even really bothering to tell Cedric what had happened. She hadn’t expected him to show up, but she is very glad he did.

“Of course, Harry…,” he trails off, biting his lip in hesitation and she realizes with sick dread that he is going to steal her comfort by saying this again, “You know I lo-“ 

“And is this not just the _loveliest_ sight?” The worst familiar voice rings through the room. Both Harry and Cedric turn to face the smirking face of one Tom Riddle. His eyes are ice as they stare directly at Harry, not even making a move to glance up at Cedric. Harry meets his gaze unwaveringly, lifting her chin to show she isn’t afraid and she isn’t going to just back down. His words from their last departure float back to her.

_“I’m not giving up on this. Bella will have the best and whatever I have to do to get you to England, Harriet… I’ll do it.” _

Harry shivers, knowing somehow, someway that Tom is responsible for Sirius’s condition. All because she would not return to plan his wedding to another vindictive bitch? Harry’s eyes narrow. 

“Can we help you, Mr. Riddle?” She asks frostily and Cedric knows a little of what happened. He knew Harry had been with Tom in school and it had ended quite poorly. She of course could never tell him the full extent of their severing, but he knew enough to understand her hostility.

“I figured I would stop by to… To wish your godfather well and once again implore with you to plan my wedding,” Tom says slowly, his voice still the sound of harmonies, but it’s sharper, higher than she remembers. The deep bass she used to feel in her bones is long gone. 

“Oh? And was _this_,” she gestures widely to Sirius’s prone form, “your way of getting me back to England, Tom?” His eyes narrow at the accusation, even though they both know it isn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Of course not. It’s just a happy accident that this landed you where I wanted you for a while. Especially considering they don’t know when or if he will wake. You won’t be leaving anytime soon,” Tom says, his voice calm even though he is insinuating that Sirius’s accident is all part of his plans. Harry scowls, wanting to demand the man leave her presence at once. Still something is pressed into her arms as Tom approaches the two of them and she looks down to find a dozen red roses. Not quite the flower she’d pick for a get well soon wish. Harry immediately hands them off to Cedric who looks down at them in shock. Tom frowns at the action, but replaces it with a smirk quickly.

“Yes well, I think the answer is and always will be no, Tom,” she hisses, flinching when Cedric wraps a protective arm around her waist. This is stupid of him, Tom could very well do anything he wishes to either of them and probably get off clean. Afterall, he had killed someone else before he tried to kill her that night and nothing ever came of that. 

Reaching forward, Tom grasps her elbow, tugging her out of Cedric’s grip and into his own. His hands are on her upperarms, but it feels like electric currents running through her body. They haven’t touched since he cursed her. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at him in shock. 

“Harry, please… Just get dinner with me. Allow me one chance to make ammends before you close the book on any communication with me ever,” he pleads and she can tell he is sincere. Perhaps beyond just wanting his perfect, ruthless Bella to have the best wedding, he actually feels some remorse for how they separated. She knows the wise thing would be to say no. She knows that Tom is certifiably evil and is probably Lord Voldemort and also probably put Sirius in the hospital…

But she is sick and tired of being afraid of this man and all that he once meant to her. She isn’t twenty anymore and she cannot hide forever. It would perhaps be nice to move back with Neville and Luna, start a business in London. She sighs deeply before nodding at the man.

“I will meet you tonight at the old Italian place we used to love when we’d wander around muggle London at seven.” It’s all she can say, at least placing herself in muggle territory makes him less likely to use magical means to hurt her. A small smile graces Tom’s face before he smothers it. 

“Lovely,” he says, removing his hands and moving towards the exit, “I’ll see you then. Enjoy the flowers… Oh and Mr. Diggory, I’ll see you at our meeting this afternoon.” Tom sweeps out the door. Harry now turns the accusation on Cedric who pales beneath it.

“You’re working with Tom?” She hisses and he flinches. 

“I… Yes. Business in New York has been going so well that he wants to help move it to London as partners,” he admits and Harry nods, putting immense distance between them.

“How could you?” She whispers and just like that, all of the comfort she ever felt with Cedric disappears into the night with the coldest of goodbyes. 

“How could I? Harry, you just agreed to go to dinner with the man and potentially work for him! Just a tad hypocritical, no?” The Hufflepuff has a slight sneer on his face and Harry feels anger rising hot and fast inside of her. 

“I need closure! Who do you think gave me this?” She hisses, parting her bangs to reveal the harsh scar on her forehead. Cedric’s eyes grow wide in horror and she shoves past him, going back to clutching Sirius’s hand and holding back tears. 

“Harry… I didn’t know-“

“It was an accident, it doesn’t matter now. I need time though, Ced. This is a betrayal to me, whether or not you meant for it to be.” Looking back at him, she sees tears glistening in his eyes as he solemnly nods. She looks away, not being able to bare looking at his kind eyes. 

“Just… _I love you_, Harry. I hope you know that, at least.” She hears him leave and sinks back into the uncomfortable chair which is quickly becoming her English home. Placing her forehead into the edge of the mattress, she reflects on the loss of Cedric and the reality that she agreed to get dinner with her would be murderer. Silently, Harry lets tears escape, wetting the scrathy bed sheet beneath her face.

Walking into this restaurant for what seems like the first time since a lifetime has past is… wild. Her emotions are banging around inside her heart, begging her to leave and not face the man who took her entire life from her. She feels like wild prey backed into a corner and her flight or fight complex has always been turned to the Gryffindor setting of let’s fuck shit up. 

Tom is already sitting at a table and his dark gaze penetrates her skin, seeps into her pores and burns with something she has never felt in his presence. She’s nervous. She doesn’t know the man sitting there as she takes her place in front of him. Once upon a time, she would’ve said she knew Tom as well as he let anyone know him. That was before he hit her with a killing and cutting curse in equal fashion. The scars on her face and her abdomen ache in phantom pain. 

“Harry,” he greets, his breath leaving him as he says her name. She swallows and offers him a small smile in response. They fall into silence as a waiter brings over waters and asks if they would like anything else to drink. 

“A glass of pinot grigio, please,” she blurts, even as Tom is about to dismiss the man. The waiter nods with a smile as Tom’s intense stare burns into her. Tom orders one as well.

“Since when do you drink?” He questions as the waiter leaves and she huffs, rolling her eyes. 

“Ever since New York.” _Ever since you fucking maimed your girlfriend of five years and upended her life._ He hums in acknowledgement, his forehead furrowed. 

“Harry, I would like to… To apologize. My behavior when we first met again was deeply unfair, it’s just that… Well, the last time I saw you was the worst day of my life.” Tom takes a deep breath and Harry likes to think she still knows him enough to know that he is actually being genuine with her here. Still, Harry is silent. He knows what she’s here for and her blank glare causes the man to flinch as his brown eyes meet hers again. 

“You knew then that I was experimenting with dark magic,” Harry nods as he says this, she _had_ known, “and you walked in when I was expecting you to be in Paris with Sirius. I didn’t know it was you and I had just separated my soul… I reacted very poorly.” Harry breathes in sharply.

“You killed the man on the floor that night when I walked in?” As she asks, she swears his eyes flicker to a bright crimson and she knows. She knows that he created horcruxes and that he is in fact the Dark Lord that Britain fears. Her lips twist, she may not be very light, a grey witch mainly, but that doesn’t sit well with her. 

“Yes,” he admits and she nods. It isn’t okay, it isn’t okay that he did that in their home when she wasn’t there or aware. It isn’t fair that he made these decisions without her when they had been partners at the time.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again and she knows he means it, but he probably only means it because he needs something from her. Suddenly she remembers why she’s here and who she is here for. If only Tom had wanted to apologize for her benefit. Instead, here she sat with Tom for the first time in forever actually having a civilized conversation and he’s only here for his fiancé. Who he loves. Harry does her best not to flinch at the realization. 

“Tom… You don’t have to do this. I’ll plan the wedding for you, you don’t have to pretend to be sorry. You were clearly done with your Gryffindor Halfblood experiment and ready to move upwards in life.” She stands, pulling her bag off of where she hung it on the chair.

“Harry, no- where are you going? You promised me dinner?” And it’s a question, his voice sounding somehow lost. She’s never really heard that from him before and it sits oddly in her stomach. 

“But you got what you wanted from this, right? I said I’ll plan your wedding. We don’t need to keep up a charade anymore,” she says and swallows heavily, “I trust you wont mind drinking and paying for the wine. I hear you’re quite wealthy these days and besides… you owe me far more than that.” Harry takes one last look at an honestly surprised Tom Riddle before she spins on her heal and leaves. 

Being in that place with him makes her too weak, she couldn’t remain any longer. She would give him the perfect wedding for his fiancé and then she would never see him again.

Tom sits stunned as Harry flees out of the restaurant. After all these years, she is still the only person who can surprise him in so many ways. _You were clearly done with your Gryffindor Halfblood experiment…_ Did she truly believe that? Could she possibly believe he hasn’t thought of her every second of every day since she left? Anger swells inside his chest at her doubt of him and his heart. When they were younger, she had never doubted him… Never thought ill of his intentions toward her. 

He stands, throwing a twenty note bill on the table and stepping outside to apparate with a sharp crack once he’s sure no muggles can see him. Once back in his manor, he goes up to his room and opens the panel in the wall. Inside the compartment are many things he’s tried to forget. There’s a Gryffindor scarf, pictures of Harry and himself on dates out in muggle London. A picture of them at graduation, receipts Harry had kept from some of their dates. Harry’s quidditch uniform and a sign he had brought to her last game for Gryffindor wearing her scarf. A key from the apartment he still owns where the floor is stained with Harry’s blood from that fateful night. The note he had started writing to Sirius asking for Harry’s hand in marriage…

A compartment full of memories of a man named Tom Riddle and the girl he loved. _Loves._ A soft smile spreads along his face. 

Harry left thinking the very worst of what had happened, he can see that now. She thinks that he is only seeking her out for Bellatrix’s benefit when that could not be farther from the truth. When Harry had given up teaching at Ilvermorny, something he only found out about after the fact, she had returned to using the name Harry Potter. The fact that Lily Evans, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Ilvermorny had slipped his notice for so long while he searched for her tirelessly still burns. She started to plan weddings as Harry Potter just a few years ago, an heiress to the House of Potter in the United States instead of in England where she belonged. Instead of with him where she belonged. 

And hadn’t it burned him when he discovered she was planning weddings for others when they had never had their own? He had never even gotten to try to ask and plead with Sirius for Harry’s hand in marriage. Now, though… Now he won’t have to. His smile grows into something sinister. 

No, the wedding that Harry has agreed to plan isn’t for Bellatrix at all. It will be the wedding the Heir of Slytherin deserves and she will marry him whether she wants to or not. Harry Potter has always been and will always belong to one Tom Marvolo Riddle. And Lord Voldemort does not share. He had the pleasure of reminding Mr. Diggory of that fact just earlier this afternoon.

When she left for New York originally he knew he couldn’t follow. He needed to be more, to be better. He needed to complete his metamorphisis to be the man that could go to New York and bring his lovely Harriet home to him. So he stayed and he severed his soul and he became a completely different person. He killed and maimed and ruled… He became Lord Voldemort. Perhaps it is time Harry met the man he became for her. Afterall, he couldn’t let her go on thinking Tom Riddle is still alive. 

He shuts the compartment and locks his history away once again.

“My Lord!” He hears the next morning, a very familiar voice approaching his bedchambers along with frantic footsteps. He isn’t indecent, having risen and taken breakfast in here hours before. He just was still stewing in his thoughts from the previous night is all. Harry had looked divine at their brief attempt at dinner together. Her pale green jumper brought out her killing curse green eyes. Had they always been this green or had his impatient actions brought them to an even brighter shade? He doesn’t know, but they’ve always been beautiful and last night they looked like jewels against her pale skin and pretty pink lips. 

“Come in, Bella,” he allows and the crazy witch comes spilling through the door with her cousin right on her heels. Draco seems quite out of breath, proof that Bellatrix is far more valuable than she may first appear. She is death in a corset with wild, curly hair. 

“My Lord, your girl has agreed to move forward with the wedding. I got the notice this morning,” she says with a manic happiness in her eyes. She knows helping him succeed with this will make her his top follower and she isn’t wrong. Giving him back his Harry is something that will earn quite a bit of his favor. 

“Excellent. Now, which of you will go personally summon Ms. Potter to meet with Lord Voldemort?” Both Death Eaters freeze and turn to look at each other. Tom knows that it will be Draco, it just doesn’t make sense to send Bellatrix. That would immediately give away that Tom is Lord Voldemort and he wants to see the shock on Harry’s face. He accomplished his deepest and darkest of goals.

“I-I can, My Lord,” Draco says and hesitates visibly, “Just don’t make me hit on her again, please.” Tom laughs deeply in response.

“Tell her I’d like to meet her to discuss the union of two of my most trusted followers tonight at nine,” he says and shoos Draco and Bella out of his office. Sitting in his chair, he spins like a child, more than excited for Harry to meet the real him. 

Harry sips on a coffee in the small shop. It’s small and on the edge of the area that has an apparition point so she can get back to St. Mungos. There’s an almond croissant in front of her that is still warm and she is beyond excited to bite into it. 

All of sudden, a body slips into the chair across from her. She looks up, expecting it to be Tom for a moment, for him to be chasing her down to chastise and beg forgiveness just like he used to when they fought. Of course, it isn’t Tom, but she isn’t that far off. 

“Malfoy?” Her tone is incredulous and to his credit, he looks like he wants to be here less than she wants him there. She frowns, taking another sip of coffee as she asseses the Death Eater in front of her. 

Below the saucer plate for her tea is a letter from Dumbledore himself. He wishes her well and says that he is sorry fro what happened to Sirius. Still, he hopes she’ll reconsider the offer he gave her years ago when he visited Lily Evans at Ilvermorny.

To take up the mantle of the Girl Who Lived and become an icon in the fight against the rising Dark Lord. Once again, she’ll have to turn the wiry old man down. She has no place in a fight of good against evil. 

“My Lord Voldemort would like to officially make your acquaintance as you are planning the wedding of two of his top lieutanants tonight at nine pm,” he says, interrupting her thoughts and slipping her a portkey. Harry simply raises an eyebrow at him. Sliding the portkey back to Malfoy and huffing out a deep sigh.

“Please,” she chuckles, “Tell Tom to cease the dramatics. I’ve met Lord Voldemort plenty of times. Hell, I’ve fucked him! He can’t play me.” She laughs outloud at the shock on his face. Wrapping up her croissant in a napkin, she places it in his hand with the portkey. He's delievered the message and she knows she's sending him back with unpleasant news. It's the least she can do. 

“Here, take this for your trouble and make sure you say exactly what I said, word for word. She tips the rest of her coffee into her mouth and goes to the counter. 

After purchasing another croissant, she nods to Malfoy in goodbye and takes her leave, Dumbledore’s letter weighing heavily in her pocket. 

If Tom wants to play these games, perhaps she shouldn’t write off meeting the meddling old man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!! thank you for all of the support on this story guys, it means a lot to me!


	4. I've always been in love with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry is in a lot of pain here. Trigger warning for using alcohol to handle pain irresponsibly.

Draco stumbles into Voldemort’s office, his eyes wide as dinner plates and the fear in them so intense, Voldemort pauses as he regards him. Draco places a news notice on his desk shakily and Voldemort traces the movements very carefully.

“Well, Draco? What did Harry say to my invitation?” Draco is practically shaking as he unrolls the notice and Voldemort is growing impatient until…

**Sirius Black Dies in St. Mungos Hospital at Age 49**

His mouth feels awfully dry. He ordered Black incapacitated, but he never meant for… He never thought about what would happen if…

_This wasn’t part of his plans!_

“That’s not all, My Lord,” Draco rasps, pointing to where the Ministry of Magic announced the Death Eaters behind the attack due to the symbol being carved into a nearby wall. Tom can’t think, noise ringing through his head and his ears. Harry… Harry will need comfort. Maybe he can comfort her? _…She needs him?_ Of course now he cannot reveal himself to her as Lord Voldemort like he planned. He will have to ask Lucius to pretend to be him. …Yes, that could work. This could be fixed. 

“Well, this can be salvaged… Even if the Death Eaters behind the attack will be severely punish-“

_“That’s not all, Tom!”_ Draco nearly shouts, his body seemingly vibrating with his anxiety and his breathing labored. Tom quirks an annoyed eyebrow at being interrupted, not to mention called by his first name. Nobody shouts at him let alone raises their voice. Draco better have a good reason for-

“She _knows._ She knows that you’re Lord Voldemort. That you’re behind it.” And everything seems to freeze around him.

“…How?” He stammers, confused for the first time in what must be years. 

“She guessed.” Draco admits before fleeing the scene in all of his knowledge and wisdom derived from serving Tom for almost ten years. Now it seems to be Tom who vibrates with energy; fear and barely repressed rage. This is not what he wanted! This wasn’t his plan! He screams, using magic to throw his heavy desk chair against the wall, shattering it into pieces. He can fix this, he will fix this. He just has to find Harry. 

Harry sits in a room with the Order of the Phoenix all sitting at the round table with her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stare at her with a barely repressed need to wrap their arms around her. Ron stares at her like she has three heads. They want to know why she left. After so many years, she can’t believe they have trapped her in a room to divulge secrets she’s kept for ten years. Harry wishes she could look at Hermione for aid, but she knows that the other girl has wanted to know what happened since the first time Harry asked her to keep Tom away in the hospital. 

Sirius Black died this morning. Harry was there, holding his hand. Even now, her lip wobbles and her eyes fill with unshed tears. Sirius Black died this morning after being attacked by Death Eaters. Her thoughts seem to be going in a loop.

Tom Riddle, the bastard love of her life, is Lord Voldemort. 

The man who leads the Death Eaters. 

_Tom had Sirius killed._

Repeat.

And now Dumbledore sits at the other head of the table, staring her down with sympathetic eyes. Harry has never trusted him, much like Tom. Unlike her friends. She could never buy into the idea that Slytherins were evil or that the old man had all of the answers. Clearly he didn’t. He didn’t know who almost killed her just like the rest of them. 

Harry is so tired and she wants so badly to get drunk with Neville in some club in New York. Instead, here she is in London, once again discussing a war she wants no part of. But she has no choice now. By killing Sirius, Tom has dragged her into a war. A war she will lead.

“Harry, you beautiful girl. You strong, sure woman. I think the time has come for you to share your story with the people who love you.” And Harry thinks that _maybe_, maybe Dumbledore has a point. Because while she has never trusted Dumbledore, he has always cared for her in his own way. The other people in the room certainly love her and they deserve the truth as to why she abandoned her life here with them. _She doesn't think about how she never told Sirius... How he never knew-_

“It was Tom. I came home early from a trip to find him creating a… A horcrux. He didn’t know it was me and- and he panicked. Lashed out to kill the intruder for seeing his deepest secret. He didn’t know it was me, not that it would have stopped him. He clearly _never loved me,”_ and the last part comes out as a pained whisper. Harry wants to hurt herself for still finding that to be the most painful part. 

“And it doesn’t matter anymore because… Because Tom Marvolo Riddle is Lord Voldemort. I figured it out a few days ago and Draco Malfoy confirmed it last night. He killed Sirius.” Harry stands from the table and allows Ron to smack into her with a hug, Hermione joining soon after. A single tear escapes her already raw from crying eyes and she shuts them tight. Finally, she pulls away, looking each member in the eye. She pauses at Remus, someone she knows is hurting as much as herself before forcing herself to go on. 

“So I will be your Girl Who Lived. But know this, I am no pawn. I will fight Tom and _he is mine to kill._ Do you understand me, Dumbledore?” Her face is set in stone even as tears trail down her cheeks and Dumbledore looks like maybe he wants to argue about it, but decides against doing so. 

“There is no politics, no shoving the savior role on me, do you understand? I will solve my Tom Riddle problem and then I will go back to New York to plan more weddings and live my life. I will _never_ return. _Are we all clear?_” The last question is directed to the entire table and they all look deeply uncomfortable and sad. 

“We are clear, Harriet.” Dumbledore comes around the table and holds a hand out for her to shake. She does, feeling as though she has signed a deal with a different devil, but a devil all the same. Her jaw trembles for a moment, but she stands strong, blinking away more tears. 

“Good,” she declares, turning to Hermione. “Get Ginny. Us girls are getting drunk tonight.” Hermione nods rapidly, leaving the room as Ron wraps his arms around Harry again. Fred, George and their parents join them. Mrs. Weasley fusses over how different she looks from when she left and if she’s been eating right. Harry finds it in herself to laugh wetly. After greeting everyone in the room, she turns to Remus. Tears flood her eyes again. 

“_I’m sorry, Remus._ I’m sorry he’s dead because of me,” she cries and he gathers her in his arms, shushing her. 

“He was so proud of you, Harry. He loved you. The only thing that you’re at fault for is giving that man his life back when he got out of prison. For being his best friend and the best daughter he could have asked for. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m so sorry you were alone with him when he died,” Remus babbles, holding on tight to her. They cry together for a couple of minutes. 

“Hermione will be back soon with Ginny. Dry your tears,” he orders with a small smile before exiting the room to find Tonks. 

_“Harry,”_ Dumbledore says softly and they’re alone in the room now. Harry tries to be stoic, though she knows she’s failing. Dumbledore doesn’t approach her, doesn’t initiate contact. After all these years, he seems to respect the distance she purposely leaves between them. Harry closes her eyes, preparing for Dumbledore to chastise her for loving Tom and causing all of this. 

“There is no fault to be found in loving someone. Even if that someone is Tom Riddle. Love is our greatest gift of all, Harry. Never be ashamed that you gave it to someone. _Ever._ And never hesitate to give it again.” By the time she opens her eyes again, Dumbledore is gone. 

After four damaged Death Eaters stumble into Malfoy Manor with stories of a master dueller in the form of a young woman, Tom knows he has to find his love sooner rather than later. 

When Tom finally finds Harry, he’s shoving into a pub in London. And Harry… she’s on top of a table. Very visibly intoxicated, the woman is holding a microphone and singing horribly into it. Hermione and the young Weasley girl are off to the side, clapping wildly and singing along with the rest of the bar. It seems New York has fully set into her bones because his Harry never would have done this. 

“Just like a dream, you are not what you seem,” she slurs, waving her free hand and dipping down to hop off of the table. She prances around, encouraging the crowd to clap and sing the chorus parts. 

“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there. Just like news to me, you are a mystery!” The song is very obviously well known, the crowd dancing along at all ages. She tips three consecutive shots from a random table into her mouth before continuing. Hands wave in the air and Tom is in awe. He has gone about this the wrong way, expecting Harry to be the same person she was at twenty-two when she had taken off. Her top is hanging in Hermione’s arms and fucking Ginny Weasley is there too, much to Tom’s immense annoyance. 

People are whooping and hollering as she makes her way back to the stage, bopping her head along, curls flying around wildly. The song tapers off and Harry flashes a bright grin to the crowd. 

“Fuck yeah, Madonna,” her British accent says into the mic and somehow even that sounds American to Tom. People scream in response. Hermione and Ginny are cheering as Harry falls into a chair at their table, sipping her beer and accepting her shirt back. She tugs it on before chugging the beer. The crowd is shouting “Encore, encore!”

Tom settles into the corner to watch how human Harry is acting, how normal. He hasn’t seen Harry act normally and fun since before their encounter. She climbs back on stage and another song from decades prior starts playing. 

“Like a Virgin!” She cries and the crowd responds wildly. The song starts and a weird expression comes over her face as she fixes her position. Slowly she dips and swivles her hips.

“I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through… Didn’t know how lost I was until I found you,” she sings, pointing and winking at Ginny and Hermione. Her eyes are wildly happy and her dancing provocative. Tom’s hands curl into fists. 

“Gonna give you all my love boy, my fear is fading fast… You’re so fine and you’re mine…” Her voice comes in and out as she pulls her sleeve to reveal a shoulder, pulling it back up with a wink and shushing motion to the crowd. 

“Like a virgin touched for the very first time!” Her hands go behind her back and he thinks maybe she… No. _No, she can’t be._ She throws her pink bra into the crowd and Tom has to stop himself from throwing the muggle who catches it through a window. The song ends and Harry bows, laughing. 

“Oi, mate! I’m gonna be wanting that back!” The bra is thrown back onto the stage and she tips her head in thanks. She’s clearly done now as she walks to the bar, bra hanging between her fingers. 

Tom sneakily whispers, _“Accio Harry’s bra,”_ and it comes sailing into his hand. 

He holds it up, eyebrow raised and Harry’s face falls as she sees who stole her bra, devastation on her features. Her friends are drunk and at their table, they don’t see how she begins to shake as she looks at him. She walks over to him and is still so much shorter than he is. 

“I do not want to talk to you,” she hisses and he laughs at the put out look on he face. He knows what he’s done, knows it can’t be forgiven at first, but Harry wont even hear him out. Wont let him just _explain._ He can fix this if she lets him. 

“Please, Harry. I know you know who I am and what I have done. I should have known you would figure it out with how well we know each other… But just let me explain.” Harry narrows her gaze up at him and she suddenly seems so sober, perfect clarity in her eyes. It settles in that in her absence he has gone after people she loves. 

Ginny and Hermione across the bar among them as well as… _Sirius Black. _

He doesn’t recognize the woman in front of him with her narrow eyes and barely concealed fury. This is not his Harry. This is the head of the Golden Trio, the Girl Who Lived. Tom takes a minuscule step back. She follows, the predatory lion to his prey for a moment. 

“You should never have brought me back here, Tom. I am not someone who is in the dark about who you are. I know you, I know what you want. And I am going to _burn it to the ground._ After I give you the perfect wedding to the Wicked Bitch of the West first like I promised.” Her grin is shark like and he swallows. This is never something he would have expected. 

“Have your men stop tailing me and any further correspondence can go through Malfoy or Bellabitch. Be careful though, Tom, because just like you… I have no issue killing the messenger.” He glances up to find Granger and Weasleys’ eyes planted on them. He opens his mouth before shutting it again. 

“You should _never_ have brought me back," she repeats in her drunkenness, "You should have left him alone. Now, you have given me no chance but to fight in a war I never wanted to be a part of. _I love you, didn’t you know?_ And maybe I could have forgiven what you did to me, I certainly was not going to involve myself in your war over it…” Harry trails off before grabbing his hand and dragging him outside near the apparition spot. 

“But you had Sirius killed, Tom. The only family I had left… and some things can _never_ be forgiven. I'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure. Hopefully nest time I'm sober.” She turns away, goosebumps lining her arms from the cold air. Tom reaches out, but suddenly stars explode behind his eyes. The world blinks in front of him and suddenly he is laying in front of the main gates to Malfoy Manor. Harry’s bra still hangs from his fingers and he blinks down at it, completely confounded regarding what happened at the pub. Her actions are of an experienced witch and it is a credit to her abilities that she drank as much as she did and was able to have their conversation as well as practice such complicated spell work. 

He has gone and started a war with Harriet Potter. Something he never wanted to do. And her Slytherin side is coming out in full swing. 

_“Tom, I have a secret to tell you,” she whispers while next to him in bed. She is spending the night in the Slytherin dormitory with him. They’re in their sixth year and her green eyes peak up at him, glinting in the scarce lighting from outside of his bed curtains. A playful smile stretches across her young face and he matches it, half of his mouth curling up in a grin. _

_“What is it?” He asks conspiratorially. This moment stolen in the night feels so pure, so untouchable. _

_“Did you know the hat wanted to place me in Slytherin?” She asks with a chuckle and Tom’s eyes are wide. He knew she was meant to be with him, his queen. She is a snake buried beneath a lion’s pelt. His smile grows._

_“Is that so, My Love?” He kisses her breathless. _

The air leaves Lord Voldemort’s lungs for the first time in years. He underestimated his equal. 

He should have known there were lines Harry Potter had carved in concrete that not even he could cross. He notices a paper zap into existence above his head. It reads, in his Harry’s messy scrawl:

_Oh and Tom? My boyfriend better not be dead too. I want him back._

He incinerates it in his anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am making a playlist for this story to fully get the vibe of their love and also Harry as an individual if anyone is interested. BUT! Thank you so much for reading, I have not written in months because I recently got into law school and am finishing up my undergrad degree in a few weeks. Still, I finally felt like writing again, so here's to being productive! Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an itch that simply needed scratching. It's one chapter for now, but if it gets enough love I would like to update it with more chapters! let me know what you all think and thank you for reading!


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